


Eleven O'clock Oranges

by peterpandesal



Category: B.A.P
Genre: Cross-posted, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-05
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-21 17:07:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7396201
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peterpandesal/pseuds/peterpandesal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Somewhat conceited, a little greasy, but nonetheless straightforward, Kim Himchan has made a lasting<br/>impression on Riri. This is further developed especially when he admits honestly to her about something.<br/>At first she tosses this off nonchalantly, but Himchan will stop at nothing (and no orange) just to prove his point.</p><p>He's ready to do this, perhaps even after...death?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Zelo Delivery Express

**Author's Note:**

> yet another cross-posted work from AFF. I personally like this one (too bad i was a lousier writer back then so i can say i could probably do a better job now). apologies for any weird phrasing or any writing error, at all, coming your way. i was young and stupid when i wrote this.

Just when I thought the weather of the day was going to be different, I was wrong. When I woke up, the first thing I checked out was the view outside my window. To my greatest dismay, the sky was gray and rain was promising. Nonetheless life had to go on, regardless what kind of weather each day would be, so I got out of the bed, and got ready for school.

Before I went out of my room I made sure to shut my window—my favorite part of my room. Though somewhat small, I like it. When I get distracted while studying the view outside would be the cause. Some people are scared of looking out the window when it’s night, but I guess I’m the opposite of that. That’s just what I _love_ to do. But today, just like yesterday, the skies were dark and most probably the clouds would again prohibit the sun from blessing its joyful light upon this planet, I felt disheartened that my nightly stargazing would be again not granted.

It was in the middle of the day when the bell rang, signaling the end of the last period of my morning. I had to go to the lockers with my best buddy Jongup, since he had the same purpose as I did—that was, to put in his books.

Careful to have arranged all my books and notebooks in a neat, single file, I took one last gaze upon how I’ve been managing to keep it in that glorious tidiness because usually, it wasn’t like that. Two weeks ago I had embarrassed myself by having nearly all of my things spilling from my locker because of how badly they were piled, Closing the door, I was suddenly startled when I saw someone present behind my locker’s door. I yelped, and there he was, Kim Himchan—leaning on the locker beside mine, folding his arms, the usual smug look plastered on his pretty face.

“I almost had a heart attack!” I exclaimed, undecided whether I should be angry or just let him be. He’s trolled me for more than once this was not really a surprise.

“Hello, Riri,” he greeted in his usual husky voice, which would have increased the mortality rate of the girls here in school if they heard it.

I nodded once, thinking I was going to have to deal with his usual flirting. Himchan-ssi was perhaps the most terrible flirt  I have come across among all the terrible flirts here at school. He wasn’t touchy, but his words were just enough to prove that he was a walking greaseball. “What’s up?”

“Nothing’s up. Except for my spirits that have been lifted for you have just looked at me,” he intoned, which made my insides turn in disgust.

I did a face-gag at this, covering my mouth and pretended that I was about to puke, and lightly kicked his shin. “Himchan-ssi, up to when do you plan on doing this to me?”

The pretty boy shook his head with a smile, which quite confused me whether it was out of self-contentment or just plain amusement. Instead of answering, he took out a flower—a rose to be exact (who the heck still offers flowers nowadays? Oh wait, this is Himchan I’m talking about)—and handed it to me. “For you,”

I flattened my eyes at him. “Rose. Really. A rose.”

His eye-smile showed, evincing how pleased he was at my reaction. He’s been too used to my nonchalant ways of dealing with him he doesn’t mind me regarding him with a slight degree of indifference.

I would’ve gladly accepted it, since that was quite nice of him, but I had some sort of ethic I’ve been living with all my life, established ever since I became a teenager. “I’m sorry, Himchan-ssi, but I’ll only accept flowers from a guy whom I like,”

 _This_ was when the usual smug look vacated his face. He suddenly looked crestfallen, almost sadly so—that I somehow regretted my words the moment they went out of my mouth. I didn’t want to disgrace Kim Himchan, no matter how disgustingly greasy he may be. “Do you…hate me, Riri-ssi?”

I blinked. “Ah, ani, ani; that’s not the case. It’s just that…” my shoulders slacked as I sighed. “I don’t see you…the way you see me,”

The puzzled look on his face remained there. “You don’t like me?”

“I do, I really do. But not… _romantically_.” I swallowed the lump in my throat. Part of me wanted to apologize, but I didn’t see why I should, so I didn’t.

A moment of silence passed. I don’t know how long it took but it was rather hard for me to look at him tossing a great thought in mind. Once upon a time Kim Himchan was one of the fellow senior students that I looked up to. We’ve been acquaintances for many a school year but I don’t see why now did he just started hitting on me. It’s been told that he’s had many girlfriends before, and I didn’t want to be the next in line, so I kept my distance from him as far as possible. Unfortunately, my best buddy Jongup likes to hang out with him, along with four other boys and they call themselves by an acronym of some sort. Every time I had to look for Jongup I would always have to go to their hang-out (usually it would be in the third music room) and there I would see them—or Himchan, specifically, and I was forced, for more than once, to stay in that room for the sake of waiting for my best friend. I think that’s when he started fancying me (probably along with other girls across the school whom he had been flirting with) because once, he told me I was quite striking, character-wise (why, thank you).

 

“What does it take for you to like someone?” he spoke, finally, a gleam of eagerness present in his eyes.

The question caught me off-guard. I honestly didn’t know. “You mean my standards?”

“Yes.”

“Well…” I tried to formulate a response in my head, just so I could get this over with. “As long as I’d know he thinks of me on a daily basis. I mean, not that I’m being self-centered, it’d be more preferable if he shows that he likes me through his actions,”

Returning, the smile spread slowly across his face. Just in time Jongup appeared next to me, and looked rather like he was having fun watching his hyung flirt with me again. “Riri-ya, kaja?” he invited.

I nodded with a smile.

“You, hyung, would you like to come with us?” Moon invited him.

Himchan gracefully refused. “Ani, I’ll go look for Bang first. I told him that we’d have lunch together,”

“Alright then,” Moon smiled, and off we went, and I looked back while walking. Kim Himchan was waving at us, a pleasant, sincere smile on his face, not the usual haughty one on it. He looked better-looking in that, honestly.

 

 

“Ririiiiiiiii,” Jongup looked at me, almost whining. “Come on, I’m craving for fruits. Give me at least a single pulp,” he begged, while I was happily eating my oranges, which I had no intention of giving him even just a slice.

“Here,” I pinched a pulp from what I was eating, and gave it to him.

Now he really whined. “Come on! Don’t be so cruel!” he whined, but with a laugh, because of my comic antic.

“Fine, fine, you whiney baby,” I frowned at him, and gave him half of the orange. It’s alright, I still had four of the fruit left.

“Thank you,” my buddy joyously took it with both hands, and we ate.

It wasn’t long before someone walked to our table, and his presence was announced when he put his hand on the table. “Too bad you’re on your dessert now; we were just about to eat,” when I looked up I was staring at Kim Himchan’s face. And there was Bang Yongguk, standing behind him, carrying a tray of food.

“Why didn’t you come a little earlier, then?” I replied.

“Bang’s class was dismissed late. Are you going after this?” Himchan replied.

Jongup nodded twice. “Yes, hyung; our next class is about ten minutes from now,”

“Oh, I see. Wait,” he noticed the oranges on the table. “Jongup, I didn’t know you were an orange fiend,” Kim joked.

“Aniyo; those aren’t mine. Those are Riri’s,”

“Wow, that’s a _lot_ of oranges,” Yongguk-ssi mused, laughing a little. “Is it your favorite fruit?”

Abashed, I bobbed my head. “Well, yes,” I collected my things and gave an orange to Yongguk-ssi, and another to Himchan-ssi. “Here; seems like you guys need some vitamin C,” I smiled at them while standing up, motioning for Jongup that we’d go.

“Thanks…” Himchan stared at the orange in his hand dumbly for several seconds. I was going to ask what the matter was, but just in time, he looked up, a _very pleased_ expression on his face. “Thanks,” he said again.

“Thanks for this, Riri-ssi,” Yongguk grinned at us, and took over our table while my buddy and I were walking.

“Sure,” I waved a hand, and Jongup and I exited the cafeteria.

 

Jongup, beside me, was sulking. “That was kind of unfair,”

“What’s unfair?”

“You gave them whole oranges while you only gave me just a half. I even begged for it,” there was a genuinely sad look on his face. Jongup wasn’t really a person who’d really complain about how unfair life was, but when he did, he’d be really sincere about it.

“Aww, that’s what you’ve been injured about?” I cooed, and took his hand, and put the most orange of all the oranges I brought today. “Here,”

Jongup’s face brightened. “Whoa—thanks, Riri!”

“Sure,” I smirked.

 

When school ended Jongup told me that I should go home first, because he and his group were still going to prepare for their performance in an underground dance arena. He said they’d end their practice late so I just complied.

The next day was sunny, thankfully. Nothing much happened—but that day Himchan was a little easy on me. I mean, I didn’t have to almost slip on the floor because of his greasiness (yes, it’s a figurative) and whenever his gaze and mine collided at any time of the day he just smiled at me sweetly. Maybe he’s finally resolved to stop hitting on me, or he was up to something.

But that evening I was disturbed in the middle of the night.

I was going to sleep, having just finished my homework in Math when the doorbell rang. Irritated, I went out to get the door. Good thing my parents weren’t disturbed by the loud, continuous pressing of the doorbell. “Who the dickens would visit this time at night? It’s like, eleven,” I grumped, and opened the door, and—

“Zelo?” my brow arose when I saw the tall kid standing before me, carrying a box. “What in the world are you doing here? And, how’d you get my address?”

“Jongup-hyung.” He answered. He pushed forward the box to me. “For you, noona,”

I smiled with my teeth, not with my heart. “Uh, thanks?” I opened it and…wait. Oranges? “Kid, I’m your noona. I don’t fancy guys younger than me,”

“No!” Zelo frantically denied. “Those aren’t from me, noona!”

“Then from who is it?”

He sighed. “You mean you don’t know?”

“I wouldn’t ask you if I did.”

“Very well,” he bowed and turned on one heel, now walking away. “Figure it out, noona. See you tomorrow,”

“Wait—” I wanted to halt him, but something stopped me. I don’t think I’ll ever get a straight answer from him.

I went to the kitchen, exasperated and bewildered, and placed the oranges on the table. Wow, it’s cold. Exactly my type. I ate one, and resolved to call it a night. Before going to sleep, I placed the oranges in the fridge.

I would lie if I say this didn’t continue. From that night forth, every night (except on Sundays), every eleven o’ clock in the evening, Zelo would come to my house carrying a box of oranges. Every time I would try to ask him from whom all the oranges are he’d just cut me off, putting a wall of hand between us, and would say, “Not a part of my job description, noona,” which would make me shut up every single time.

It went on for about three weeks, and I could see Zelo’s patience getting exhausted, as well as mine. “Darn it, noona! Just date him alreadyyy! I’m the one sacrificing because of you guys!” he exclaimed, finally furious, one Friday evening, while he looked haggard and tired from practicing.

“How am I supposed to date him,” I countered, with the same exasperation, “When I don’t even know his name?”

The kid flattened his eyes at me. “Really, noona? Really? I know you’re dense but I never deemed that you’d be _this_ dense,” he huffed.

“Hey, don’t talk to me like that. I’m your noona!”

“Yeah, right,” Zelo rolled his eyes and instigated walking out stomping. “Eat well. Good night!”

 

The next day was a Saturday, and I was told by my mother to go out to the grocer to buy supplies. I was done buying the meat and vegetables, and what I had to buy next were the fruits.

“Ahjumma, are these fresh?” I asked the seller, pointing a clump of apples.

“Of course, dear! They were picked just this morning!” she answered, despite of the many customers she was accommodating.

“Oh, I see. Thank you,” I started choosing which ones I was going to buy, and the Ahjumma entertained the other customer beside me. While I was picking, I heard their talk. It went like this—

“Ahjumma, how much are these oranges?” the young man asked.

She told him the price, and added, which quite surprised me, “But for you, I’ll be giving a discount!”

I smirked. _Whoa,_ she doesn’t even give me a discount. I picked up five apples, paying half of my attention to their conversation.

“How many are you going to buy?”

“Three dozens, please,” the male answered.

“Oh, so many! What are you going to do with it?”

And I don’t know, but something clicked inside me. This made me look up, suddenly sensing a vague sense of familiarity. I snapped my head to the left, and there was Kim Himchan hoarding the oranges in the fruit stand. I was so surprised that I yelped, making all the other customers look at me, “K-Kim Himchan-ssi?!”

Himchan blinked several times, and smirked. “I thought you weren’t going to notice.” He bluffed, when in fact we just saw each other at this same time.

“W-w-what are you doing here?” I asked, still shocked to see him here.

Just in time, the seller-Ahjumma handed him the box of his order. I saw a hint of red running across his face while receiving it, and while I was looking at the box, he snagged my attention by saying, “So I think it’s useless using Zelo now as a mercenary, eh?”

“It…it was you?” I stammered.

He snickered in amusement, giving me an _of course it was me_ look. “Did you eat them?” he stepped away from the counter, now gesturing that he had to go.

I nodded stupidly, slowly, with an agape mouth.

“Thank you,” he said, softly, warmly, _sincerely_. When in fact _I_ was the one in the position to thank him. “Would you like some help with those?” he said, eyeing the bags I was carrying.

I shook my head, the same expression not vacating my face.

“Ah, come on,” he chuckled, and looked at the Ahjumma. “Ahjumma, I’ll be right back. Will you take care of these oranges for me? I promise I’ll come back later,”

“Why, sure, my boy!” the ahjumma answered, blithely, blind to all the romance the young man was radiating. He handed her the box, and Himchan looked at me.

“Let’s go,” he said, not letting me protest as he snatched all three bags I was carrying. He walked ahead of me, and I had no choice but to follow.

 

“You…you shouldn’t have bothered, really.” I said, scratching my head, while he put the bags on the table.

“It’s my pleasure, Riri,” he grinned. “Are your parents at home?”

“Well, mom’s upstairs. She’s sick, that’s why I bought the groceries today,” and then I hatched the question forthrightly, which I’ve been itching to do for half an hour now. “Himchan-ssi, why were you giving me all those oranges?”

His mouth was slightly opened, and he closed it back down. After a while he answered, with warmth, “You said you wanted someone that thinks of you on a daily basis, right?” he laughed softly. “And would show it through actions?”

I froze.

“I’m sorry there were no Sunday oranges, Riri; Zelo needed a holiday,” he jested.

My mouth felt dry.

Sensing that I was too dumbstruck to formulate my reply, he stepped closer to me and told me, in what sounded like hushed, “There really isn’t a chance that you’d like me, Riri, I know that. But I just want to show you—and now telling you honestly—that I _like_ you. I really do,”

Slowly, slowly, my gaze lifted itself off the floor and landed on Himchan’s white face. I’ve had a boyfriend before, and that was enough to make me learn how boys were like. Himchan was even more dangerous, and though what he was doing was really charming, I had to put on my guard. I couldn’t risk acquiescing to such sugarcoated words. “I…wow. Just. Wow.” I stepped away from him, blinking. Outside I looked flustered, but inside I was still dubious. I am going to throw all his words out the window as soon as he’s out of my house.

My response built a wall between us, making him disabled of the ability to see through my reaction. He stepped away, and bid me goodbye. “Have a good day, Riri,” were his words, and he went out of my house.

Even with that seemingly sad reply, I still wasn’t touched by the fact of how he showed that he “liked” me. Who knows; this tactic might have worked on other women, right?

 


	2. Window Ninja

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> remember when we put actual korean words in our fanfics? lol so gross. but true. i wonder if kpop fic writers still do that nowadays.

When Monday came, Himchan looked like he decided to keep whatever happened last Saturday as a secret in the dark. While we were in front of everyone (their gang, I mean) he still approached me with the same flirtatious, red aura, but I felt like something was lacking. Part of me missed it, honestly, since it’s like what happened has made him wiser but sadder, but I told myself that maybe this is what he really wanted to happen. For me to feel sorry for him, if I hadn’t accepted his feelings right away. Then that would eventually lead me to liking him back, which is really effective and accurate.

That Monday evening, I wondered if Himchan’s speech about using Zelo as his mercenary was true or not, and I waited in the living room for the kid to come. Heck, I even prepared a sandwich for him in case he was tired and fuming during his delivery.

But eleven o’clock came, and no Zelo Delivery Express appeared on my doorstep.

This kind of bewildered me. I waited for another hour but still, no one knocked, doorbelled, or called “Noona! Open the door!”. Too sleepy to go on waiting, I went to my room, and was shocked to see something on my window.

In truth, I was the kind of person that wasn’t fond of exercising security measures. My mother had always scolded me for keeping my window wide open when it’s night, and not caring a bit if someone or something would come into my room. This time, for the first of chances, her speech had come true. Or part of it, at least.

“What the…” I looked at the box. Okay. This is just creepy. Maybe Zelo didn’t want to see my face? Or maybe it was another mercenary that was sent that didn’t want to give the delivery to me directly? When my hand touched an orange, I could feel it condensation, meaning the oranges have been here for quite a while. Even the bottom of the box is already wet.

I looked at the clock. It’s 12:30.

_So eleven o’clock was still lived up to, even now?_

“What is Himchan up to this time?” I asked myself, huffing.

 

The next evening, I kept my guard up. Knowing that the boy Zelo  had stopped in being his hyung’s mercenary (much to his bliss) I resolved to stay up to eleven o’clock to see who’d be delivering my oranges for the night.

“Just a little more…” I glared at the clock, and in one, final click, it was exactly eleven o’clock, and—

“Ririiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!” someone called from outside my room, and I looked one last time at the window. No oranges.

“Coming!!!” I answered, in between gritted teeth.

I was already thinking what national emergency was happening that my Dad was squeezing his lungs out just to call me, only to find out that—

“Why is the fax machine not working?”

I wanted to throw a fit, right then and right there; to ruffle my hair wrathfully, because this was driving me crazy. Before proceeding back to my room to bonk my head several times on the wall, I told my Dad that the fax machine wasn’t working properly because he was pushing the wrong buttons. I went back to my room and, just as I feared, the box of oranges was there.

I used both my hands to rub my face. “I hate you all.” I muttered.

 

The following evening, I was more vigilant than ever. While I was studying Math on my study-table (which was just about five feet from my window), I made sure that my peripheral vision was on the window. I couldn’t let  a single movement escape me.

“Measure of _a_ over sine A equals _b_ over sine B equals _c_ over sine C,” I mumbled, so immersed in my studying. “Measure of angle A is 44.25 degrees and measure of angle C is 63 degrees, so…” I scratched my head, thinking of what to do next. “Angle-A plus Angle-B plus Angle-C equals 180,” I jotted down everything. “44.25 plus angle B plus 63 equals 180. 44.25 plus 63,” then my ears perked when it heard something. A gust of the wind, the fall of a feather, the drop of a pin would’ve been more distinctly heard, but _why oh why_ did I not hear it? It could be I was too focused or I could be _just plain stupid._

When I turned my head, the box was there.

_Dammit._

I tried again for another two weeks, but whoever was sending the oranges every eleven o’clock, he sure was a ninja, because even when I just turned my head or my attention was briefly snagged by something else, the box would be there, by my window. For more than once I tried staring at my window for an entire hour, but I had to go pee, and when I came back, it was there. There was also once when I saw a hand putting the box on my window swiftly, and when I ran to the window, the person disappeared. Or once, when I was sitting by my window and the box was put before my very eyes, I called out to the guy wearing all-black attire (yes, like a ninja!) he looked back while he was running and he merely gave me a raise of the hand. It was either he was bidding me goodbye or he was dismissing himself. How easily I gave up, I know. But alright. I’ll let Himchan do what he wants. He shouldn’t just expect me to return his feelings. His flirting was getting really out of hand, but I gave a positive spin to all these. At least I got oranges, right?

 

It was a Saturday night, and, really bored, I just sat facing directly window, not in fear of whatever was going to show up. The delivery ninja, a specter, or Himchan himself, I didn’t care, I just wanted to tell anyone who’d show up that I was getting fed up with all these.

Eleven o’clock came, and, realizing this, I anticipated for the ninja to come. Alas, it came, and I caught his hand. If he was a ninja fast enough to put a box of oranges on my window in a split-second, _I_ proved him that I was a ninja fast enough to catch a fly. “Hey!” I thundered, pretending that I was angry.

The ninja, whose only eyes were seen, looked at me with wide eyes.

“Who are you, really? And what did Himchan use so you’d do this?” I demanded, finally able to ridicule all these eleven o’clock oranges.

For a while we stayed like that. Finally, the ninja brought down the mask covering his face. “Oh my god, you’re holding my hand.” Himchan said cheekily.

What the hell.

My eye twitched. “You—it was you…you…” I stammered. All this time, it was him, _himself?_

Probably he was enjoying my retarded expression. “What did Himchan use so I’d do this? Well, he really likes you. He figured it was about time that he’d show it, not through mercenaries, but by his— _my_ own actions,”

I let go of him. “I don’t believe it! It was you, all along?!”

“Kim Himchan at your service,” he did a princely bow. “And, thank you for having a room not positioned upstairs. This was really an advantage,”

For some reason, I wanted to go bury myself in the deepest, darkest hole in the world.

My insides were enraged, but Himchan smiled that warm smile of his, his smile of sincerity, written all over it that what he said that he liked me was genuine, that made me rather conscious despite of myself. “Eat well,” he said, before going.

The next week, I didn’t want to see Himchan. I don’t know, I just—ugh. His face reminded me so much of my…ugh. I can’t even—ugh, dammit. I can’t even put my vexation into words. Ugh.

 

“Riri-ya?” Jongup nudged me, when it was after-school. I looked at him. “What’s wrong? You look so…disturbed.”

I shook my head. “Nothing, nothing,”

“You sure you don’t want to tell?” he smiled with concern. Jongup knew me too well.

I sighed. “Soon.”

“Alright then. By the way, you want to go to our practice later? Daehyun-hyung says he’s starting a once-in-a-lifetime promo of him treating all of us with cheeseburger,”

That sounded tempting, but I refused. “No thanks; I need to go home early.”

“Oh. but at least…come with me to the music room?”

Jongup is really meek when he requests that every time he does so, I find it impossible to refuse. “Yes. Okay. Let’s go,” I surrendered.

 

While we were walking, I told him playfully, “You know, it’s kind of funny to think that you guys practice _dancing_ in the third music room,”

He laughed. “Because it’s never really used. It’s long been abandoned and besides—the instruments there are still in good condition, so we could also practice our musical skills there at the same time,”

“Nice point.”

Moon opened the door, and just in time, someone has been standing behind it. Youngjae. “Whoa, Jongup! I was just about to look for you!”

“Hyung’s here! Finally!” Zelo exclaimed, peeking his head in.

“You don’t know how long we waited for you!” alas, it was the voice whom I abhorred hearing.

Though it was _just_ his voice, it had my stomach tingle, possibly even an eruption of pterodactyls (because butterflies are mainstream) going on at the pit. The twin doors of the music room opened wide, and Himchan—damn him—saw me.

“I’ll be going,” closing my eyes so I don’t have to look at him.

“Riri?” my best bud asked, wondering why I was closing my eyes.

“Nothing. I’ll go. See you tomorrow; okay, bye,” and I walked away as swiftly as I could.

 

It was reported all across Korea that there was a storm within our area of responsibility. And, as the morning news weather-prophet had said, the storm made itself known by blowing nasty winds and heavy rains all over the city. That’s what happened the entire day. Good thing I got home safely. The problem was, Himchan, I mean Jongup—and his gang, because they had a competition coming and they were practicing nonstop. I was kind of worried, about how and when they were going to their homes, because the rain is just really, really hard.

Seven…eight…nine o’clock. The hours passed, and my agony worsened. I was worried sick about my best friend, and for the rest of them, but more than I was thinking how my best buddy was going to go home, there was Himchan. It’s okay if he doesn’t deliver oranges today. All I need is for him to go home safely.

Ten o’clock came. Then ten-thirty. Fifteen minutes, and another quarter, passed, and the hour I had feared the most came. _Eleven o’clock._

To orange, or not to orange. That was the question.

I prayed. Seriously, I prayed. I prayed so hard. That no harm befall upon my friends, my best buddy, and I even especially mentioned—Himchan. I was eased when I was done praying, and I was startled when, all of a sudden, after the clap of the thunder outside, someone knocked on my window—which was, because of the heavy rain, closed.

I quickly opened it, and there was Kim Himchan in all his wet-hair and soaked glory, faithfully delivering the oranges so he could just prove how much he liked me. He was still wearing his school uniform; his necktie was distorted and he was just wet—wet all over by the rain.

“Himchan!” I exclaimed, forgetting to add the  “-ssi” because screw formalities—this was high time to panic.

“Here,” he answered with a smile, hanging one arm on the frame of my window, panting, giving me the box of oranges.

I took it and I grabbed his arm. “Come here, quick!”

Good thing he had a body frame that fit just well through my window, and when he was standing before me, the urge to throw my arms around him was overpowering. Despite of the fact that he looked like he was mauled by an animal, his smug aura still loomed all over. “I really exerted myself out there, huh.”

Managing to laugh, I answered, “You really did,” I told him to take off his coat, and he gave it to me, and in exchange, I gave him a towel. I told him to sit on the chair of my study table.

“Thank you,” he humbly said with a rather shy smile.

“Wait here.” I said, going downstairs to get him a warm cup of tea. When I came back, I handed it to him, to which he complimented me that I was being really sweet. I rolled my eyes, and asked, “You…just came from practice, didn’t you?”

 “Yes. I came running as soon as it was over.” He answered, and sipped from the cup while the towel was draped over his shoulders.

I remained silent. Letting him enjoy his cup of tea, I sat on the edge of my bed, all the while not knowing I was looking at him.

The moment that followed was silent, no words exchanged between us because first, I really didn’t know what I should say, and second, maybe he was thinking of what to say too. When the silence was getting too long for me to bear I told him, “You really like me, don’t you.”

He was about to drink again but his hands, with the cup, stopped in mid-air. Himchan looked at me. “Finally you notice.” his eyes turned into crescents when he smiled.

Nothing was really funny in that, but I found myself cracking up a smile. “I thought you were just kidding.”

“Why, Riri, in case you don’t know, walking here every single night is no joke,” he chuckled, but of course he was serious.

“I mean,” what should I say? How should I put it? Kudos to him for being such a determined lover? “You really…stuck out your neck for me. I don’t really even see why,”

He rolled his eyes with a smile. “Haven’t I told you? I told you _I like you_ , didn’t I? Alright, if that doesn’t do it,” he put down his cup on the table and walked to me, and stooped down to level his gaze with mine. “I like you. I really do.”

This caused me to avoid his gaze, because all he’s all cockiness, greasiness, and straightforwardness rolled into one once again. “You…you really shouldn’t have come.”

“Why not?” he stood straight. “I’m not doing this for myself. I’m doing this for you.”

“Well then,” I swallowed. “Do this for me.” I consumed all my willpower to look at him straight in the eyes. “If the storm continues tomorrow, or for as long as it lasts, don’t come here.”

He frowned. Not because he was ill-pleased, but bewildered. “But why?”

I knitted my brows. I almost said _because I don’t want to put you in danger again_ , but I bit my tongue, and gave him a laconic reply of, “Just don’t.”

Unfortunately his cockiness gave him the bonus special ability of being able to see through me. “Ya, Riri,” he giggled. “You’re concerned, aren’t you?”

I rolled my eyes, trying to rebuild the wall between us. “I just don’t want anyone to be my cargo if ever they get into trouble,” I huffed, trying my best to sound listless.

The pretty boy snickered. “So you really _are_ concerned.”

I wanted to yell at him that _no I wasn’t_ but part of me did not want to argue any further. Either way he’d still win, because he’s the type that gets his way in everything, even into women’s hearts.

I gasped.

_What if his tactic was already working?_

This wasn’t good.

 

“You know, Riri,” he disturbed my thoughts when he spoke. As if hearing what I was thinking, he said, “I may have had a lot of girlfriends before, and I’ve already had a bad impression on you since day 1, but just…know, that I’m just showing you what I feel.” He sounded sad, that I looked at him. “Maybe that day when you’d accept a flower from me is impossible, but still, I’d do this. I’ll do this until you get sick of oranges—until you’ll say that orange isn’t your favorite fruit anymore, because of me. I’ll do this until you tell me that I stop. I’ll do this until you say that you like a man besides me. But in the meantime, while none of those are there, I’ll do this.” He undraped the towel from his back and handed it to me, and then got his other things in the room. Standing before the window, he told me, over his shoulder, “And you’re right. I really shouldn’t have come. I know you mean that kindly, and since that’s what you want, though I’m reluctant to do it, I will. Because you said so. Because I like you. I really do.” And went out easily of the window, not even letting me respond to his “Good night, Riri,”

And so the storm continued.

The storm outside, and the storm within me.

 I know I started to see Himchan in a new light the first time he told me that he likes me, but _oh my god—_ I didn’t know it would go this far. Him saying that for the first time made me dubious, but the second time just churned my insides stronger. What was he doing to me?

For the first time in months, Himchan seldom approached me, and merely gave me a smile every time our gazes met. The storm lasted for five days, and, being true to his word, or to _my_ word, Himchan didn’t come. That Friday, though, I found something in my locker.

It was a note, to be exact. I opened it and read—

_Riri! Riri! Riri! ^^_

_Hello. I figured maybe you’re starting to think that I’ve found another woman that I’m not coming to you anymore, but I’ll just remind you that I’m just complying to what you said. Because, you’re concerned for me, right? ㅋㅋㅋㅋ_ _~ anyway maybe you’re missing me. That’s inevitable, because I myself miss you! I’m not talking to you because honestly, I feel a little shy now_.///.) _but if you want to talk to me, just approach me! I just can’t conjure the guts to talk to you first because…yeah. Anyway I hope you’re alright. And in case you’re asking, I’m okay! Keep safe!_

_Love,_

_Himchan_

 

I had to cover my mouth while biting down my lip, because I could practically hear Himchan’s voice saying this to me. My eye twitched at that _Love, Himchan_ part, but I decided to shrug it off, because that was how a salutation usually ended with in letters.

 

***

 

“Riri? What’s wrong?” Jongup shook my arm while we were in class.

I couldn’t stop shuddering in my seat. “Oh my goodness,” I covered my head with both hands, my eyes widened and looking blankly into space. _Love, Himchan._ It kept on echoing across my head, bouncing around relentlessly. _Love, Himchan._ Oh no. This wasn’t good. This was _nowhere_ good. _Love, Himchan._

“Riri? Riri!” Jongup tapped me several times. “You look pale! Are you having trouble breathing?”

My head slowly turned to him in creaky, slow motions. “Jongup-ah…” I stammered. “’ _Love, Himchan’_ ”

Jongup squinted his eyes. “Look I understand that you like us standing beside each other but—”

“No-no-no…” I shook my head. I just ignored it a while ago, why is it coming back now? _Love, Himchan._ Wait. I don’t like him! There’s _no way_ I could possible like him! _Love, Himchan._ Despite of all the oranges he gave me—no! _Love, Himchan._ No, no, no… “Jongup-ah…I think I’m going crazy…”

My best friend reassuringly shook his head. “No, you’re fine. You’re perfectly well. It’s just a phase you’re going through. Whatever that is. Why don’t you tell me what the cause of all this is?”

With trembling hands, I took out the letter Himchan gave me. Jongup read it, and prevented a smile from escaping his lips.

“Hyung is just showing his affection, relax, Riri,” he was going to laugh any minute, but politely concealed that fact as he folded the paper back to how its pleats were fashioned a while ago. “And you being affected…well, ‘ _Love, Himchan’._ ” He chuckled softly, and that’s when I smacked my face on the table.

When Monday came, Seoul was still recovering from the damages of the storm, some parts of the city have been badly damaged; slippery roads, trees that were taken down by the very strong winds, and whatnot. And there was me, doing nothing but agonize myself with the fact that I had to see Himchan. But when I realized I had a means of escape, I made the tragedy of an excuse that I was “sick”, “hence the effect of the weather”, and promised Jongup that I’d be back as soon as I recovered. Tuesday came, I was still absent, and I told myself I should be going back to school because I was missing a lot on the lessons. But just when the resolution was getting stronger, it easily crumbled when a voice mail came from the one, the only, Kim Himchan.

 

_Beep._

_“Ah…ne, Riri. You’ve been absent. Jongup said you’re sick. Gosh, this is really hard for me to talk to you like this, even when I know you wouldn’t answer. Anyway please get well soon. The guys are concerned, you know that? And…yeah, me too. I’m worried. I hope to see you soon. I’ll resume delivering oranges tomorrow night, okay? This has been Himchan, bye!“_

 

_Why, oh WHY did you have to do this to me, Himchan?_

I wanted to cry because I was getting sick of myself. Part of me kept saying that _yes you like him_  but my pride kept on getting in the way. _Oh hell naw you’re gonna allow yourself to be ensnared by that guy._

When I came down for dinner, my mom and dad talked me into going back to school again.

“Are you sure honey? Aren’t you missing a lot on the lessons?” Eomma asked.

I nodded weakly, still not over with my charade of being sick. “Not really….Jongup says he’ll be lending me notes,”

“But you should really go tomorrow,” Appa intoned. “Remember, you’re a graduating student. You ought to study well,”

Sighing, I replied, “I’ll just see…”

“But when you do go to school tomorrow, be careful, okay?” Mother warned. “The streets are still slippery and just this morning a huge tree trunk was blocking the road to the city proper. It was really big, and they’re having a hard time taking it out.”

Good. Another reason to stay at home. “Okay, eomma.” I answered.

 

The next day I woke up with a good feeling. I don’t even know why, but I did. I kept on re-reading Himchan’s note, and even the _Love, Himchan_ didn’t bother me that much. In fact, I rather liked it. Maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe Himchan really was sincere with his words. Maybe liking him back wasn’t so bad. After all, he was really sweet, thoughtful, and he’s done practically everything in my list of my requisites for my type of guy. Maybe I like him too.

Wait.

Yes.

I do.

I like him.

I really do.

The corners of my mouth spread and curled up, and for the first time ever since Himchan told me sincerely that he liked me, I had made peace with myself. I like him. He showed me how true he was, and that made me fall for him. _Kim Himchan, I like you too. I really do._

I wanted to stay at home despite of the fact I wanted to see Himchan. I wanted to tell him that _you can give me flowers now_ because yes, I like him. He’s more than free to give me a flower, three of it, or a dozen, or an entire garden of it. I waited eagerly for the evening, and for eleven o’clock. Alas, the hour came. I stood by my window, wearing the best pajamas I have, ready with my hug and my confession.

_11:00._

_11:18._

_11:36._

_11:57._

_12:00._

_12:13._

_12:28._

I waited and waited, but no Himchan came. Angered, confused, and a little nervous, I picked up my phone, making up my mind to call him.

The phone rang several times, and it was answered by a voice not his.

“ _Yobosseyo?_ ”

“Ah, ne, may I speak to Kim Himchan?”

 _“Are you a friend of his?_ ”

“Yes. May I talk to him?”

The male voice sounded troubled for some reason. “ _I’m sorry, but, you can’t,”_

I swallowed. “W-why? Where is h-he now?”

He took a sharp breath before answering, and a chill went down my spine. “ _He’s in the hospital. Dead on arrival.”_


	3. Finale: Dead or Alive

Whether it was caused by shock, devastation, heartbreak, or possibly all of them, I didn’t really know, but the next thing I knew was I was shaking. My hands turned cold, and something started to fill my eyes, obstructing my sight, and I realize that they’re tears. The scaffolds of my structure giving way, I fell on my bed into a sitting position, a part of my mind still not believing what was happening. _No._ I tried to recall how Himchan looked like the last time I saw him—the soft, pretty expression on his pale face, the joyous aura accompanied with greasiness that always happened to infect me, one way or another. He was all alive and warm—flesh and blood; standing before me Athena-sprung full-blown.

But now, Himchan was dead.

 _“Miss…?”_ the guy on the other end of the line spoke, and that’s when I realized that I was making these raspy panting sounds. I held my chest with a shaky fist.

“W-where is he…?” I asked him.

He dictated to me what part of the hospital my lover was in. _Morgue._ He kept on telling me things that was between coming to the hospital soon because I was the first relation to the victim they had come in contact with and assuring me, sort of like that. I don’t know how the call ended, but the next thing I knew I was running to the hospital, in my pajamas, forgetting to bring any protection with me, to shield me from the chilly wind of the night.

With shaky hands, I scrolled through my contacts, wondering which one among the gang I should call first. My thumb landed on Daehyun’s name, and I called him, and told him about the news. I simply told him to come to the hospital with me, because this was about Himchan. Daehyun called Youngjae. Youngjae called Yongguk. Yongguk called Zelo. Zelo called Jongup.

Even breathing was a struggle for me. While we were walking Jongup never ceased to hold my arm, and kept on lightly pushing my back to make me walk. I didn’t want to see Himchan. I didn’t want to see him _dead._

The brave leader he was, Yongguk was the first one to enter the room of death. Next that went after him was Youngjae. Then Daehyun. Zelo, even while we were making our way to the morgue, was already sobbing, Yongguk had to put a firm hand on his shoulder. His hyung was gone, but the poor child had to face it like a man.

“Riri…” Jongup breathed out my name. He was also confused about what to ask me; whether we should go in, or go out of the hospital.

“Go,” I kept my eyes fixated on the white floor. “I’ll follow,”

“I can’t leave you here,” Jongup said in his hushed voice, protesting but at the same time pleading.

Unclasping my arm from his firm hold, I shook my head and motioned him to go in. With a head cast down, Jongup walked into the morgue in slow steps.

 I knew I had to face it, but not now, not at this minute. I was too used to seeing the happy Kim Himchan, the guy whom avidly proved to me about how much he liked me for who I was, for how I treated him, and his persistence made me like him back, to the point of loving him. Why was I too late in admitting? I didn’t want to see him because I was too proud to admit that I liked him back. I was in too much denial to admit the truth, when it was already a given fact.  _This was all my fault._

Looking into what the windows of the door displayed, I saw the five boys with their head angled down, their shoulders quaking upward and downward as they cried bitterly. Following their example, I looked down on the floor again. My throat tightened, I clenched my fist, and though I hated it—I fell into sobbing again. Himchan was gone.

I didn’t know how long I had been standing there until someone went out of the door again. When I looked up there was Daehyun, his usually eye-bagged eyes now even made puffier by the tears he’d been spending on his hyung. Before I could say anything he grabbed my arm. “You need to see him.” He said darkly, and dragged me into the morgue.

No. I hated this. This was too much. Altogether _too much._ I didn’t even want to see him, and now Daehyun was forcing me to look at him?

There he was in all his dead splendor, the pale face made paler as death has marred his life. He lay there still; unmoving, his chest not rising, nor falling. There were several gashes on his face; there was a big red slash on his forehead; his lip was busted. Kim Himchan’s beauty was stolen by death.

_Himchan,_

_Wake up._

_Please._

 

I couldn’t take it anymore.

“You idiot, why’d you do that?!” I demanded, shaking his body that was half-covered with white sheets. “Why did you have to come? I told you I don’t want you getting harmed because of me!” I yelled at him—nasty insults, heavy obscenities, just to emphasize how much of an idiot he was for getting himself killed because of me, and how much I hated him for doing that. Eventually my strength failed me, that down I sank on the floor, my knees turning jelly; down, down, down... “Kim Himchan…” I buried my face on the space of where he lay dead. “…Wake up…” I srewed my eyes shut, not able to stop my crying. My heart felt like it was being squeezed in different, continuous ways. Nothing could beat the tragedy, the sadness of this all.

***

 I hadn’t the heart to attend the burial. The funeral lasted for only a very brief while; Himchan’s parents said that they didn’t want to prolong the hurt of their son’s death. It was unbearable to me, how much more to them? It turned out that what killed Himchan was that he got hit by a car. Because of the slippery road, while he was crossing the road to the city proper, some drunk-driver didn’t know that the area there was prohibited to be used because of the huge tree that got in the way, and used that path. He lost control in driving, and Himchan paid the price.

As if getting hit by the car wasn’t enough, he was even swept across the asphalt by the car itself, and they crashed onto that tree.

Very brutal, Himchan’s death.

But despite of it all, _I_ was still the cause why he had died.

It was even reported that on the crime scene there were several oranges.

Jongup called me and asked me what time I was going to meet up with the guys, so we could go to the burial together. I told him I didn’t want to come; I didn’t think I’d have the guts to do so. To this my best friend just let me be with a simple “okay”, and promised me that he’ll visit me soon if I was ready to be comforted.

 _I don’t want to be comforted, Jonguppie._ I wanted to tell him.

The next week, at school, Jongup used all means of persuading me to spend time with the guys. Not that I was supposed to proxy their missing piece, but because I’ve been a part of their family now, and what we needed the most now was comfort from each other.

We tried to laugh; we really did. But it seemed that all efforts were in vain; because everything— _everything_ seemed to remind us of Himchan. I didn’t know how he took care of them but it was all too visible. Even the walls of the third music room seemed to scream Himchan’s name.

It was I think in the afternoon, while most of us were having our free time and were gallivanting around the grounds when Zelo asked me, though what gloom he noticed in me I knew not, “Noona, are you okay?” he queried, carefully.

I wasn’t. I wasn’t okay even in the very least. My eyes flattened, but I’ve told myself that I stop crying over Himchan. He would’ve hated it. He would’ve hated seeing us cry. “I’m just like the rest of you, Zelo,” I answered timidly.

The kid pursed his lips, finding no answer for this.

“I’m still…adjusting.” I added.

When it was after-school, I decided to go home early. Seeing Himchan absent and looking for him when in fact he was _dead_ was too painful, every time I realized it. For more than once during that day I was deluded that the guy walking across the soccer field, the garden, the hallway, was Himchan. I was about to run to him but good thing, I had stopped myself in time.

“Riri-ah!” I looked over my shoulder when I heard  that.

Frantically running to me while waving something in one hand, Youngjae was running, and when he stopped, he handed the piece of folded paper to me, his breathing ragged. “For you,”

I knitted my brows. “What’s this?”

“You’ll know,” Youngjae looked like he was undecided whether to smile or to just monotonically state it as he said, “I was planning to blackmail him with that, haha, but…I think you deserve to know,”

I inhaled with a nod. Unconsciously, my hands pressed the paper to my chest. I could imagine Himchan’s warmth just by holding it. “Thank you…” I said to Youngjae softly.

He replied to me with the same tenderness, because such sacred things deserved so. “You’re welcome,”

And I walked home, the sun still setting in the horizon.

When I got to my room the first thing I did, not even caring to change into house clothes, was to read Himchan’s composition. Maybe this is the last letter I will ever receive from him. Reserving my tears for whatever was going to be the most heart-wrenching part of the letter, I opened it, and read—

_To my friend, my dearest, the girl whom I love, Riri—_

_I find this a little ridiculous—writing you a letter when in the first place I have no intention of sending this to you, which is just as absurd as talking to myself but anyway, I’ll just imagine that this could reach you. That’s because I’m really fond of thinking about you and how you’re going to react if ever I tell you these things. I mean, the things that my mouth doesn’t say. The things that you’d be able to hear distinctly if only hearing from the heart was ever literally possible._

_(wow, I was really mushy there)_

_Today is Tuesday, the second day that you’re absent, and the sixth day since I last sent you oranges. You know, it’s a little lonely without you. I miss you rolling your eyes at me for flirting with you; I miss you and your cringing every time I put emphasis on how much I like you. Riri, has it ever occurred to you how frequently and easily we talk about this? About me liking you? How easily you shrug it off every time I tell you that I like you—I really do—and how you think of it as a mere joke? That’s it’s just borne by my flirtatious and greasy nature, because for more than once I’ve made women fall for me through my ways?_

_It’s funny when I think of it actually. Other people, whenever they know someone likes them it would all be awkward between them and they would barely be able to interact. And yet here we are, discussing it among ourselves freely and sometimes comically, because that’s just how coolly you take it—my professing of my love for you. Although, I have to admit…it kind of hurts me._

_The first time you stepped into the third music room with Jongup, I found you not even the least bit interesting as the girls I have dated. You were listless; seemingly dull in character, and rather a little snobbish._ _However for the many times I had tried talking to you I found you and your being ever so fascinating, that despite of that exterior of nonchalance you are fun, honest, and witty. For more than once I’ve even seen an impatient side of you. That was during those times when Jongup had to stay late for our practices, and when you’d go and tell him that you’ll go home together, he’d tell you to go ahead, because he was still practicing. You’d gruff and huff, sigh in exasperation, but nonetheless would bid Jongup goodbye and tell him to take care on his way home. Not only that; you would always bid us adieu in your egress, which made me think that you were warmer than you really seemed._

_Yes. That was how long and how carefully I studied you._

_Now don’t be creeped out—honestly I had done that quite unconsciously. I only realized this one day when I saw you and all of a sudden you were_ so _pretty in my eyes. Maybe you’ll say that was pretty shallow of me. But it was your personality that magnetized me to you—yes, it was that! Honest! More than one of the girls that had been my girlfriends were a little intricate in character, but not as much as you were. You had more…substance. You were more complicated than they were. You were much, much more amazing than them, and that I saw your beauty in your eyes, not in your face. So the quote “beauty is in the eyes of the beholder” was true, then? Cool. Thank you for proving me that._

 

My face warmed up at this, that I genuinely smiled . I was already thinking of thanking him for this—and then I realized, that’s quite impossible now. I read on, consuming all my willpower to not let the sadness overtake me—

 

_Remember the first time when I told you that you were an interesting person? I meant it. Yes. I did. That was also the time when I suspected I like you. I hope you know I’m the practical type of person, Riri; denial was of no use and that I spent no time in going through such trouble. I admitted it right away to myself. Resolving to make you know of this, I started making my “moves” on you—that was, as you may recall, my corny pick-up lines, my smiling at you and looking at you every time we were in the same room. I was laboring under the delusion that you already knew of my feelings, until that one fateful day, the harsh reality of seeing your exact degree of indifference slapped me hard on the face._

_You told me you like me. But not the way I see you. Well, not that I was expecting for something in return, but honestly, I felt something inside me break. But instead of giving up, I felt more energized, especially when I discovered something about you and your oranges._

_You must be wondering what measures I must have taken to make Zelo acquiesce to my request of delivering to you those oranges every night. Actually, I used nothing special. He regarded you with “noona respect” and I thought he was the person best fit for the job. I studied it carefully—you may fall for Bang and his manly nature; you could love Youngjae and his intelligence that was close to yours; maybe Daehyun would be attracted to you because the more you were looked at, the prettier you looked; and lastly, Jongup, your best friend, whom you only platonically treat. I was somehow afraid that any time you and him might fall for each other, but I didn’t want to have a hand in that. Your closest friend seemed to be the perfect one for the job, but for me…Zelo was just the one I chose._

_I told him I like his Riri-noona. He seemed excited at that, and when I requested him to do those favors for me every night, he was happy to be of use, and though every time he’d complain to me about “how dumb you are for not knowing from who the oranges come from” and “for you to just date me already because walking there tired his limbs to tears”, the kid was really joyous that finally, his Himchan-hyung was trying to get a woman who seemed to be out of his reach. Someone that didn’t like him back. Someone that didn’t bend easily to his sleazy ways._

 

Some cloudy liquid started to form in my eyes, distorting my sight. I blinked away the liquid and I realized that tears. They were tears. Sniffing, I resolved to peruse on,

 

_When you caught me, he felt rather sad, but was happy somehow, because he didn’t have to do the errand. He was actually the one that suggested about the ninja attire. Indeed, there is more to Zelo than what he seems._

_That time when you told me to stop giving you oranges for a while made me lonely. But since it came from you, and seemingly I had no choice but to oblige, I could say I regret nothing—except maybe for one thing. I miss you._

_The letter you received last Friday will never be able to compensate for the many words I want you to know in behalf of my heart. Or maybe—better yet—you will never know. Because my eyes are starting to see that you liking me back is as good as nothing. That you’d only see me as Kim Himchan, your flirty friend. Because for the rest of my life I’ll spend in pursuing you, I’ll be like a phantom appearing every eleven o’clock serving only one purpose. I don’t think I’ll ever stop this, Riri; if I will have to do this forever then forever I shall. And if I may have to exaggerate, perhaps even death wouldn’t stop me from doing this—expressing my love for you._

_On a completely unrelated note, these past few days I haven’t been really okay; I feel languid, a little sad, and every time I see the guys I want to remind them how much I love them (but that would really creep them out, don’t you think?) because…I don’t know. I feel like…I’m going to leave? How ridiculous. Or maybe this is just the effect of longing for you; I’ve been spending way too much time in you that I might have neglected them. Haha. What a wild conclusion._

_Hey, I just sent you a voicemail. Maybe you’ll listen to it later. Wow, even the mere thought makes my heart pound. And I’m even starting to overthink about the matter of you replying to me or not. See what you do to me, Riri? Every time I look at myself in the mirror I see a different Kim Himchan. He seems more radiant, sadder, but also maybe wiser._

_Tomorrow I’ll restart delivering to you oranges. I hope you haven’t run out of supply yet? I hope I could see you tomorrow at school. So I could ask you what your sickness was, and possibly go on usually kidding you then have you cringe at my cheesiness. But come what may on the morrow, regardless of the slippery and damaged roads, I’ll come back to you, to show you that I like you. I really do._

 

_See you tomorrow, Riri!_

_Always,_

_Kim Himchan_

 

A blot landed on the paper. Then another one. And another one, until a waterfall of tears couldn’t stop flowing from my tear ducts. Himchan, why? Why did liking me have to cost your life?

I curled up in a ball, while hugging his letter to myself. I sobbed, sobbed so hard till I felt that my energy reserves have been depleted, and I felt that I was tired. Slowly, slowly, I sank into sleep.

The next time I opened my eyes it was dark and it was already deep into the night. Rubbing my eyes, I got up, and realized that I was still in my school uniform, and beside me there was a crumpled piece of paper. I looked at the clock. 11:17. It’s been a habit for so many weeks now that I thought Himchan must’ve already paid me a visit, until I realized he was already dead. There was no way he could—

I screamed when I saw what was on my window. There it was, a familiar box. Shaking with fear because this was just really creepy, I slowly approached my window, and took the box.

Oranges.

Inside the box there were oranges.

***

“Riri-ah, is there something you want me to buy for you from Busan tomorrow?” father asked as I was going to my room, just before when we were going lights-out.

I shook my head. “Nothing, appa; but just take care of yourself,”

“Very well. Good night, Riri-ya,”

“Good night, appa,”

And Dad went upstairs to their room.

Before opening the door of my room I took a deep breath. Today was the fourth Saturday since Himchan had left, and the fourth week since he restarted sending me my favorite fruits, despite of the eerie fact that he was already dead.  No, he did not send mercenaries; nothing of anything, but in the hour of eleven o’clock in the evening every night (except on Sundays) there would be a box of oranges in my window. At first I was really scared of this, thinking that it’s Himchan’s ghost was what was at work this time, but something in eleven o’clock makes me always anticipate it, no matter how creepy the circumstances are given. Every night when the box comes I would feel all warm and fluttery inside, like how he would always make me feel every time he exercised this gesture. Maybe what he had said after all was true. Not even death could stop him from showing his love to me.

Alas, after a long moment, I opened my door, and, just as I expected—there was a box of oranges there.

 

I laughed when I saw it. Walking slowly to the window, I picked it up and opened it, and took one orange. I didn’t know what I was doing but I looked up in the air, and muttered, “Thanks, Himchan.”

 

***

Finally, after a month, I had gained the ability to go to Himchan’s tomb. The next day, I paid Himchan a visit—the first among the many times that will follow. In respect, I have brought a bouquet of flowers with me, putting it on his grave. “I never thought that my resolution would be spun around,” was my greeting to him, accompanied by a light laugh. I let a silent moment pass, thinking that maybe Himchan was listening to me right now. “Remember the time when I told you I’ll only allow boys that I like back give me flowers?”

Silence.

I snickered. “But why is it now, Himchan, that _I_ am the one doing this to guy whom I like?” my throat started to tighten, but I manfully swallowed that lump.  “Don’t you think it’s a little unfair for me now?” but then maybe he’s already heard what I had said. I _had_ already given away the fact that I _indeed_ liked him too.

A strong gust of the wind blew, and I don’t know, but that made me laugh. Maybe because that was Himchan’s hint of expressing how happy he was that finally, though late, he’s finally accomplished his mission of making me fall for him.

There were tears in my eyes, but I smiled through them. “Maybe you’re really jumping in joy now. Since I’ve already slipped—” I cleared my throat, feigning an indignant manner, “Yes, Kim Himchan. I like you too. I like you. _I really do_ ,” my eyes, my lips, along with my heart, smiled, that finally I’ve told him what I was never able to tell him. That finally, after all this time, I’ve returned to him his feelings.

“Now you can stop all those eleven o’clock oranges,” I jested, relieving him of his duty all these months. I wish to let Himchan go. It will hurt, yes, but my feelings for him were true—and, though you may think I’m ending it too soon, I know, this is the right thing to do. “Thank you for all the oranges, Himchan. All those gestures of love, all those words in your letter. By the way, I read it. I hope you don’t mind. Not to worry—your words will never be in vain, because I—” I put both my hands on my chest as I stared at the vertically-emblazoned name on the tombstone. “—I am, and will forever, keep them here. I’ll take care of it; your words, your love, because it…it’s such an _honor_ to be loved by someone like you. I’m sorry I was only able to reciprocate it late, but please…no more oranges now. I’m letting you go now, and you should do that to me, too.” I pointed my heart with a finger, gesturing him, proving him, that he’ll be here, _“Always_.” I smiled, repeating his own word at the end of his letter.

 

Monday it was, the next day, and I never felt more alive. The guys and I have been closer than ever; though slowly, we were recovering from our loss. Instead of Himchan’s death was what was always commemorated, we reminisced all his antics that made us laugh, and the times they’ve had with him. I’ve been noticing now, that Daehyun was starting to regard me with the first signs of what may be infatuation, but I made it clear to him through my actions that _not now, not yet_. Because I wanted to enjoy this tender, but happy memory of my lost love. Before I would let someone in it again, I’ll let my heart recover first.

That Monday night they had a competition. I attended, and gave all moral support I could offer. I screamed among the crowd, cheered, and did all sorts of happy things I’ve been depriving myself for the past weeks ever since Himchan went. Every time I looked at the five boys, I felt proud and happy, and would just content myself with the thought that the sixth one was just among them, only invisible. Because no matter what we do, we will always, _always_ carry Kim Himchan with us, albeit not the pain he caused.

I came home late. I was expecting no oranges now, because I’ve told Himchan to stop, and even before I entered my room I was already having that gut feeling.

When my door creaked open, I smiled. Because Himchan really did comply with what I said. There was no box of oranges by my window.

Instead, what I found was a bouquet of roses.

 

**_fin._ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> really, a bouquet. talk about overkill.


End file.
